I’m starting to see some trends in people’s reactions when I tell them that I’m self-employed.  Mostly it amounts to:

“That’s so risky!  I could never do that!”

And that’s funny to me . . . because they’re already doing the same thing.  We’re all self-employed, whether we like it or not–and the sooner we accept that mindset, the better.

Making a living consists of three steps:

1. Producing something valuable.
2. Figuring out who needs it.
3. Selling it to them.

I create value through writing (most of my copy helps people with their own step #3).  I find people who need it through research, advertising, this website,  and various client/contractor matching websites.  Then I sell it to them through those sites or via paypal.  It’s pretty simple.

And it’s the same thing that you’re doing if you have a job.  You produce something valuable for your employer, and then your employer buys it from you.  The stability of being employed means that you can pretty much ignore steps 2 and 3, but at some point you had to find an employer who valued your skills, and you had to sell those skills to them via a job application.  Your business is selling their business something valuable.

So what’s the difference?  What’s the trade-off?

I have less stability, sure.  I wake up in the morning with no idea how much money I’ll make today.  And I have to spend more time on steps #2 and #3–I’ve spent entire mornings trolling through contract postings, or tinkering with the wording of my own advertising material.  I spend productive working hours getting rejected and dealing with unpaid rewrites.  That’s time that I could’ve spent writing content.

But I’m also getting something more valuable than money.  I’m getting an education in what it takes to succeed at those second two steps — finding customers and selling to them!  The more I do it, the more I realize how little I knew about it before I started!

Not having that education scares me more than having an income that fluctuates from day to day.

Why?  Because there will be a day eventually where that steady job (or money from parents, or whatever) ends and you’ll have to figure something else out.  If you don’t know how to find people who value what you do, and how to sell what you have to them–well, it’s a hell of a time to learn.  Your personal business, built on a single client and one long-term contract, is suddenly dead in the water.

But if you’ve been in business for yourself and know who needs what you offer . . . well, then the day that steady job ends is just another day.  You’ve already got other leads (or if you don’t, then you know how to find them).  You know how to survive, you know how to hustle, and your personal business is resilient and flexible.

Best of all, even if that steady job doesn’t end, you’ve still got the option to leave (or ask for more money).  Let’s face it–most of the steady jobs suck, and leaving is a lot easier when you have a place to land.

Working for yourself isn’t risky.  Betting your financial future on a single job is risky.  How risky is your business?

–David

 

P.s.  Want a challenge?  Here’s a challenge: Get rejected from something new this week.  Ask that barista out, submit an editorial, see if the storekeeper will pay you to build a website . . . it doesn’t matter what, as long as it’s something you haven’t tried before.

And don’t forget to post about it in the comments!  The more open we are about rejection, the less afraid of it we are — and dealing with rejection is a big part of taking care of your own business!

A few years ago I was in a band that had a regular gig at a little tea-shop in Lansing.  The gig didn’t really pay, and no one ever really came out (the tea-shop is long gone) but it was one of those places where the young cats (me) could come cut their teeth with some guidance from the more experienced musicians.

One blazing July afternoon, we were sprawled across cushions on the floor taking a break when the door opened.  A thin guy with shaggy blonde hair walked in–the other musicians recognized him immediately, but it took me a minute.  He’d been one of my teachers in high school, but I hadn’t seen him in a couple years.

“Hey, Chris, what’s up?”

“Not much, man, how are you?”  We hugged.  “Hey, man, do you mind if I borrow your horn and sit in next set?  I haven’t played in a couple months, but I’m feeling the itch.”

“Sure, no problem.”

When the band got up again to play, I gave him my horn.  Chris proceeded to play his ass off for the entire set.  He sounded beautiful, and I just sat there shaking my head, more than a little jealous.

Afterwards, we both got big glasses of iced tea and I joined him at the chipped plastic countertop.  I wanted to ask him about his life, but it was a little awkward because I knew from friends that he’d flamed out of college and was drifting around a little.  As my cup sweated bullets all over the counter, I decided to focus on music instead.

“Man, how do you sound so great after not playing for a couple months?”

He smiled, but shrugged off my compliment.

“No, seriously.  I wish I sounded like you.”  And I did.

He turned to me.  “Man, no you don’t.  Seriously, none of it matters, if you don’t have this–” he pointed to his head, “–and this–” he pointed to his heart, “–together.  None of the skill in the world matters if you don’t have your head and your heart together.”

And he’s right.  We can’t go forward unless our own internal, emotional state is taken care of.  The subconscious is a powerful thing, and if we know what our heart wants but decide to act against it anyway we’ll find nothing but frustration.  If we push in one direction but can’t imagine succeeding, it will never work out.

My heart is in building my own business.  What’s yours in?

Freelancing can be hard.

That’s what I’m learning bit by bit as this copywriting business is lifting off.  Staying focused when there’s no one else around to tell you what your goals are is a challenge. It’s massively rewarding, too — don’t get me wrong — but you’ve gotta shift your mindset to make it work.

That’s where the little things can help you . . . stuff like the Seinfeld calendar.

I can’t take credit for this idea myself — after a little bit of digging, it looks like the idea originally surfaced on lifehacker (no big surprise there) when an aspiring comic asked Jerry Seinfeld how he wrote his jokes.  Here’s how it works:

1. Decide what it is that you want to be good at.
2. Get a big calendar and a few thick sharpies.
3. Every day that you work at that “thing,” take a marker and draw a fat “X” through that day.

After a few days of this, a pattern starts to emerge.  A chain of big, satisfying X’s starts to build up, and you don’t want to break the chain.  That’s why it works!  Eventually, keeping the chain intact is more important than catching the next episode of Walking Dead, and all of a sudden you’re a professional.

Here’s my own (homemade) calendar.  I’ve color-coded and split things into a few categories, but the basic principle remains the same.  You can see the five blue X’s last week that represent getting this site up and running.

It’s nailed to the wall right next to my head so that I’ll always have that reminder.  Am I meeting my goals?  And if not, are those goals still relevant?

That’s the other thing I like about this method.  At the very beginning you have to decide what it is that you’re drawing an X for in the first place.  That clarity is a powerful thing — and when you struggle to fill the calendar, it’s a good sign that maybe you should reevaluate.